


smoke signals

by girljustdied



Category: Skins (UK)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-22
Updated: 2011-01-22
Packaged: 2019-10-08 23:00:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17395355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/girljustdied/pseuds/girljustdied
Summary: it's more of a s.o.s. than sex, but he's there for the ride.





	smoke signals

**Author's Note:**

> post 3x07.

Frankly, he’d never given her much consideration. Not because she was quiet. He liked quiet girls. And loud girls. Massive, tiny, blonde, redhead, hairy pins, bedazzled fanny, lezza, what have you, he’s a right good fan of the fairer sex. And sex, yeah.

Her room has character. He likes the colors. Lots of knick-knacks. Homey.

Right. The fuck was he? Oh. Emily. Never bothered much. Whenever her eyes weren’t begging “please, please, please” they were always chock full of questions—most especially the dreaded “why?” Definitely the kind of bird that wouldn’t grasp the concept of “why not?”

So he thought. Apparently she’d banged JJ. Fair enough. Appearances can be deceiving. She danced like an animal. And she’d made him shimmy up a tree and climb in through the window so her mum wouldn’t get too excited by the sight of Emily bringing a boy up to her room.

“She’d probably throw a bleeding party.”

“Sounds like a good time, babe,” he gets in her space, touches the ends of her hair. “Want me to tell her about JJ? Or we could just go to it ourselves, really noisy like—”

“Shut up, Cook,” she crosses her arms over her chest.

Naw, he don’t let things go that easy—especially not when she asked him over like this, “You ever given a blowjob? Life changing, I promise you. Especially with the Cookie Monster.”

“Naomi told me about you, you know.” Girl smiles grimly like she thinks she’s got one up on him. “Said you weren’t as much of a knob as you pretend. Still a knob, but—”

“She tell you about how we almost willy-waggled?”

Emily scowls. There it is, there it is. “JJ told me, actually.”

“No hard feelings, ey? It’s simple. Man, plus woman—” she opens her mouth to interrupt but he barrels on, “equals shag. Sorted.”

“I’m sure it is. It’s also terribly underwhelming.”

He’s gotta laugh at that. “Not only did you give cock a try with a _virgin_ , you did it with _JJ_ , Emilio.”

He can tell she’s close to the end of her rope. Her face is getting all red. Matches her hair. Sweet.

“Listen to the words coming out of my mouth.” Her hands on her hips, channeling her sis. “Are you listening?”

Why not? Nods dutifully. Studiously. Clasps his hands together.

Emily takes in a deep breath. “I’m gay. Gay as a rainbow, okay?”

He guffaws and plops down on the nearest bed, arms behind him to prop him up, legs spread wide. “Unless you’re drunk, yeah? Or feeling sorry for someone.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” She sighs, impatient.

Yeah, well, so’s he. Impatient. Doesn’t want to stand still. Doesn’t want Emily screwing around with his mate’s head. And whatever thing Cook’s got going on with Effy is giving him a real headfuck.

And the obvious, of course: why not?

He pulls out a spliff he’d rolled earlier in the day. “Peace offering? Olive branch?”

She studies him a long time before shrugging, “Yeah, okay, why not?”

Huh.

“But you better pop up off Katie’s bed first.”

It takes a hell of a lot to not take the piss out of Emily about just wanting him in her own love nest, but he manages. Plops down on the bed on the other side of the room, watches Emily crawl next to him hesitantly. Lights up.

Emily grabs the joint from him before he can even finish exhaling, and he’s still coughing in wonder when she leans around and presses her mouth to his with determination.

Yeah. That’s what he’d figured.

Turns, presses a leg between hers and crushes her down to the bed. Starts a count in his head:

One. His tongue twining with hers, then a bit of teeth on her bottom lip.

Two. Hand under her shirt, inching up her back and curving her up towards him.

Three—“Stop. Cook, stop.”

Well, déjà fucking vu.

He gives a little groan and rolls off, slumps right off the edge of the bed and onto his stomach on the floor. Grinds his forehead into the carpet.

“I really thought I could. I’m sorry.”

“S’all right,” he winces and adjusts his stiffy.

“I wanted to know what it felt like. What Naomi felt.”

“Yeah.”

“It’s really unbearable sometimes. The way I feel.”

He thinks about blue eyes smeared with too much makeup, about how it makes him remember the stuffed raccoon he used to carry around everywhere as a lad. Ricky, he’d called it. Thinks about Effy’s spine, and the way it pokes out of her skin. Sharp. Strong. Thinks about how, sometimes, when he was hungover and tossing his guts into her toilet, she’d set a wet towel on the back of his neck and press her palm to the crown of his head. Comforting, like.

“She loves you, you know.” He swallows. “Naomi. At least a little. Even if she won’t admit it, yeah?”

Her voice is dreadfully sad, “I know.”

“Doesn’t mean much, does it?” He rolls onto his back, finds the tossed away spliff and sparks it again.

“It has to.” She leans down and peeks over the edge of the bed at him. “Can’t give up, right?”

No. Blows smoke signals into the air above him. Never.


End file.
